Tears Of Poison
by Pandora's Teapot
Summary: Ivy laments the doomed nature of her friend Harley's relationship with the Joker, nursing her own secret feelings for the pretty little jester. Please note: I make it a policy to read the stories of those who review me, so please review!


**TEARS OF POISON... (The King Of Arkham)**

**By Pandora Skye**

Ivy perched on the balcony railing, arms folded and lips pursed. Insolent bastard, why she had a mind to storm right in there and give him a taste of poison, so to speak. But Harley insisted that she wait in the foyer while she sorted things out with her precious 'Mister J'. The Joker had just grinned and twinkled his long, skinny fingers at her triumphantly, taunting "ta-ta pretty Poison," from behind his laughter. Ivy had sneered at him, jutting out her hip and glaring straight into his eyes. Of all the Arkham inmates, she was the only one genuinely unafraid of him. He had grabbed Harley Quinn's arm savagely and led her away in a fit of menacing laughter. Harley glanced back at her dear friend, tears streaking long black lines down her pasty cheeks and making her look more like a harlequin clown than when she had her mask on. Ivy bit on her bottom lip, a green silhouette against the moonlit rectangle of the balcony doors, helpless as her friend was dragged into the darkness of the Joker's lair.

At first it was just murmurs, then the gentle pleading of Harley as her lover no doubt threatened her with an implement of torturous pain. "I tried to warn you Harley," Ivy grumbled to herself quietly, "it ain't ever a good idea to fall in love with Arkham's most notorious psycho". She tapped her fingers sharply against her own arm, her patience growing thin. It only took Harley Quinn's agonising scream to break it. Ivy leapt from her railing perch to her feet and bolted swiftly for the door on the other side of the foyer. Her boots slid against the polished floor as she stopped herself in time to fling the door wide open.

Not much shocked Poison Ivy these days, but she stood still for a moment, somewhat horrified by what she saw. Harley sat in a heap on the reflective floor sobbing, her hands clumsily trying to brush the blood that ran down her arms back into the wounds it came from. Meanwhile, the Joker stood grinning over her with a vicious razor blade, tinged with her blood. The room was one of his favourites and one of Ivy's most hated, a labyrinth of mirrors to drive you into deadly confusion and the Joker's white gloved hands. Ivy pulled herself together and threw herself to the floor where Harley wept in a growing pool of blood. Ivy looked up at the Joker, furious that he still smiled. "Look! Look what you've done, you maniac," she hissed, pulling a white flower from her scarlet hair and squeezing the juices onto Harley's wounds.

The Joker narrowed his eyes as he stared at Poison Ivy. "Well she started it," he said in a low tone, "she knows I prefer cyanide over dynamite!" He cackled wildly, wiping a tear from his eye. Ivy shook her head and looked down at Harley, cradling her head against her shoulder. As the Joker settled back down, she slowly raised her eyes to him. He never looked away as licked Harley's blood from the scalpel, and Ivy shuddered. "What's the matter Poison?" he asked, "does it not appeal to you vegetarian ways?" Laughter erupted from him again, but Ivy did not look away this time, only lifted Harley Quinn into her arms and headed for the door. The Joker was silent, and Ivy turned to him. "You don't deserve her Joker Man," she said solemnly, "you won't realise it until you kill her." And with that she left, taking Harley Quinn with her and leaving the insane raucous of his laughter behind.

Poison Ivy took Harley to the only safe place she knew. The Stacked Deck was Gotham City's favourite sordid crime bar, notorious for entertaining the worst of the worst, including the enemies of Batman. Here you could find seasoned henchmen, hire deadly assassins, or purchase the most red hot weapons in Gotham. The bar was owned and run by La Pandora, the darling of the Gotham underworld and ally to its most fiendish villains. She served as a sentinel, keeping tabs on each of them at all times and providing their first point of contact upon escape from the asylum. All Arkham inmates were welcome here, why Pandora herself had once been imprisoned at Gotham's asylum for the criminally insane.

Now, Ivy burst through the doors of The Stacked Deck and dashed through a door behind the bar. La Pandora saw and immediately followed after them. "The Joker?" she asked Ivy, reaching for the first aid kit. "Uh huh. She's bleeding badly," Ivy said quickly, working fast to bandage the wounds tightly, "he'd've killed her this time had I not been there". Ivy removed the tight jester's suit and lifted Harley Quinn into bed. "This is the fourth time this month Pamela," La Pandora remarked, addressing Ivy by her common name, "he is frustrated by the Batman". Ivy glanced up at her. "Doesn't excuse what he does to Harley," she said, "no one shows him the kind of loyalty she does".

That night, Ivy held Harley close, wrapping her in the vine-like grip of her arms and legs. Harley rolled over to face Ivy, nestling her face into the red hair of her friend. "Red?" she whispered, calling Ivy's pet name, "is that you?" Ivy kissed her forehead. "Yep, you're safe Harl," she crooned, "go back to sleep". Harley Quinn's little arms coiled around Ivy's waist, snuggling into her warmly. "I love you Ivy, very much," Harley yawned, twirling her fingers in Ivy's hair, "almost as much as I love Mister J." Ivy's eyes sprung open. What did Harley just say? Not again! NOT AGAIN! She couldn't go back to the Joker! Not this time! Ivy tilted Harley's chin upwards to look at her. "Leave him Harley, please, before he kills you!" she pleaded. Harley smiled drowsily and brushed her fingertips against the soft skin of Ivy's cheek. "You don't understand Red, no one does," she whispered, "Mister J loves me the only way he knows how. And that's okie-dokie by me."

Ivy sighed, she did understand. In fact, Poison Ivy knew the Joker rather well. She had instrumentally used the Clown Prince of Crime and her former lover Harvey Dent, aka Two-Face, to eliminate each other and distract the meddlesome Batman while she made off with a case of top secret plant toxins (Joker's prize...) and a few million in cash (...and Two-Face's). She understood Harvey, easy as pie that one. But the Joker had been a challenge, a real tough one to crack. His twisted sense of humour made him unreasonable and completely unrepentant. Violence, death, torture, pain, destruction of the most theatrical kind, these things made him laugh. But love? Ivy could not imagine the Joker responding well to that particular disaster. His success as the number one thorn in Batman's side was almost entirely owing to his infallible lack of feeling for anything or anyone. And as Ivy looked lovingly down at her dearest harlequin friend, she knew that Harley was a serious threat to the Joker's sense of self indulgent misanthropy.

"But Harls, really," Ivy appealed desperately, "is he worth dying for?" She felt Harley's body tense in her arms. The silence seemed to last forever. Then finally, Harley spoke. "Yes Red," she whispered, "Mister J is worth dying for. I wouldn't wanna die any other way." Ivy's heart sunk, she could tell that Harley was serious. Nothing would change the girl's lovesick mind, not ever. Not even when that laughing menace had one hand clamped around her throat and a smoking gun in the other. Which ever way Ivy looked at it, Harley Quinn was doomed. "See, the thing is Red," Harley continued, "without the boss, I ain't Harley Quinn. I ain't no one." A sadness crept over Poison Ivy then and she tightened her grip on Harley. "You'll always be Harley Quinn, with or without the Joker," Ivy assured her softly, "and you'll always be my favourite girl." Harley snuggled closer, breathing in the floral scents of Ivy. "Love you Red," she yawned, "never had a friend like you before."

Ring, ring! Ring, Ring! Ring, KABOOM! Harley's head poked up, looking about the room. "That's my communicator, Red," she said, scrambling out of the bed, "where's my suit?" Ivy gestured to the red and black pile on the floor. "Nice ring tone Harls, very you," she giggled. Harley winked as she reached for her clothes and hunted around for the clown faced walkie talkie she hid in the hat. "Got it!" Harley announced, pressing the button and lifting it to her mouth. "Hello?" she asked. Ivy waited, she had very few doubts who was on the other end. "Harley? Harley!" came the excited voice of the Joker. Ivy rolled her eyes. Here it comes, she thought.

"I was just joking around with you Harley," he ecstatically promised, "I never meant to hurt you so bad, you know that!" Harley glanced at Ivy uncertainly. She shook her head and mouthed profanities about her friend's seemingly repentant lover, scalding Harley with severe expressions and encouraging her to stand up to the Joker if she insisted on remaining by his side. "You know how I feel, my little weapon of mass murdering merriment!" the Joker continued. That one made Harley grin, and Ivy knew she'd taken the bait. Again. "Aww, Mister J! I knew you wouldn't stay mad at me for long," Harley chimed happily, "I'll be home in the mornin' my Puddin'." Ivy fumed with rage, how could she be so forgiving? The maniac tried to amputate her arms only hours earlier! Ivy snatched the communicator from Harley's hand. "Listen here Joker Man, 'cause I'm only sayin' this once!" Ivy seethed, "you kill Harley Quinn and you can consider yourself fertilizer. I'm not the only villain looking for a good reason to take you out, Clown Prince!" How original, Ivy thought as she was greeted by his vindictive laughter. "Hullo Pretty Poison! Didn't know you were listening in, but glad you were," he snickered, "maybe I'll beat you to it, I hear ol' scar Face Harvey's still itching to do some overdue weeding himself! Ha! Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha!"

He hung up. Harley tried to comfort her friend, but Ivy shrugged her away. "Your 'Puddin' is either very clever or very suicidal Harley, he's played all the Arkham inmates just how he wants them," Ivy whispered beneath her fury. Harley shuffled closer. "Whaddya mean, Red?" she asked. Ivy looked at her, a kind of despair in her eyes that frightened Harley. "I mean me, you, Harvey, even Edward Nigma and The Penguin, he's made enemies of us all at some stage, but at the same time shifted us into a state of alliance somehow," she explained, "like me Harls, he knows I'd happily see him dead, but he knows I won't kill him because I love you. And you love him." Harley held Ivy close. "Listen Red, I know Mister J can be tricky, and I'm not sayin' I don't believe you," she said, "but what I am sayin' is that maybe we all just need to watch each other's backs? There's a reason my man keeps Bat-brain up all night. I know that better than anyone." Ivy looked up at Harley. God, she'd been such an idiot! Of course Harley knew what the Joker was like! She'd been his psychiatrist at Arkham and the closest thing Jack Napier had to a confidante. No one knew the Joker better than Harley Quinn! Ivy had seen her throw him off buildings, punch him square in the face, even shoot him, and here she was worrying that Harley couldn't survive the abusive violence of the Joker's love! Ivy understood now. She still didn't approve, but she understood. No one was better equipped to bring the Clown Prince down than his very own harlequin lover.

They settled down for the night, locked in a tight embrace. Her Harley wasn't weak at all, she was no victim of the Joker. She took his abuse with good humour because it was all he could offer her and he knew it. It was his weakness. The Joker couldn't love without violence. But the point was that he did love, and that gave Harley more power over him than anyone understood. Anyone but Harley Quinn and the Joker himself. "There in lies your loyalty, hey Harley," Ivy whispered to her sleeping friend, "he trusts you because you have defeated him." Ivy smiled. She'd never felt more proud of Harley than she did right now.

Perhaps one day, Ivy thought, it would be Harley Quinn who freed Arkham and Gotham City of the Clown Prince of Crime. Forever.

*** A short story by Pandora Skye, as adapted from the characters of the DC Comics classic, Batman. These characters are not original and have been borrowed for the purpose of paying tribute to the epic (and twisted) love of The Joker and Harley Quinn. Pandora Skye whole heartedly supports all Arkham Asylum inmates in the crusade for the total demise of Batman, even if he is the coolest superhero ever. On that note, I think women everywhere can learn something from the example of Harley Quinn: You know you have truly defeated a man when he hates you with violent obsession. X PS.**


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